


They Don't Know Me Yet

by teamfreeawesome



Series: Lilo drabbles [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Depression, Drabble, Liam-centric, M/M, teetotal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreeawesome/pseuds/teamfreeawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very sad, teetotal Liam having a terrible time at university</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Don't Know Me Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Another 30 minute drabble. Squinting may be required to spot the Lilo! 
> 
> I know Liam's kidney fixed itself and what-not, but like. Oops ha. 
> 
> I hope it's okay. Please do let me know if anything needs fixing or tagging etc. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not true. It's a work of fiction and no harm was meant by the writing of this. To me: fanfiction One Direction are fictional characters. I don’t, in any way, equate the stories to their real-life counter parts, because they aren’t the same people. Also, please, nobody send this to anyone included in this fic or anyone that they know.
> 
> Comments make my heart grow three sizes, no lie <3

Liam just –

                                he thought university would be better than _this_.

Better than clutching at his chest as uncontrollable, irrepressible sobs wrack his body.  

*

Liam doesn’t drink.

And – it’s the first night _(it’s supposed to be bright and exciting and_ shiny _)_ and he’s already alienated his flatmates. Because. It’s. He doesn’t want to go to the club on campus; doesn’t want to be crushed between sweaty bodies as drunken, happy shouts fly through the air.

Liam wants to curl up in his room and drown out the sound of alcohol with Marvel movies – and if he cries into the soft fur of his stuffed dog _(he’d called him Patches - because he patches up Liam’s hurt, always)_ well. Patches won’t tell.  

*

Liam thought university was supposed to mean _friends_. He thought it was supposed to be about meeting people _like_ him. It was supposed to mean _belonging_ and _acceptance_. It was supposed to be _laughter_ and _adventure_ as he learnt each new piece of himself, but instead –

University for Liam – it’s just another weary step towards some unidentified goal. It’s the drag of his feet and the scrape of his bones as he’s hauled towards the rest of his life. And –

It’s like he’d built up an expectation, constructed around soft, worn movie sequences he treasured; Liam spent nights imagining being eighteen _(silvery, bright wishes bouncing around in his dreams because surely, surely –)_ and it was the _best_ time of his life.

And then he got here and –

                                                                he’s never felt so alone in his life.

*

Liam misses his family.

Misses the chaos and noise and irritation. Misses _home_.

*

His first visit back home –

His sister drops Liam’s favourite mug and Liam feels like he’s watching _himself_ shatter. It’s not –

It shouldn’t be a big deal, but suddenly he’s crying – heart-wrenching sobs ripped painfully from his chest as he wails his _lonely_ out into the open because

It’s.

No one _cares_.

It’s easy to get lost, here. People disappear and no one _notices_.

*

Liam doesn’t know who he’s supposed to talk to.

Like.

He doesn’t have a drug problem or an alcohol problem. He has an _existence_ problem.

*

Liam hates his course.

Or.

He _thinks_ he hates his course.

Because – it’s either that, or he hates his _life_. So, he chooses to think it’s his course. Thinking about the alternative feels like he’s looking into an abyss, the drag of gravity pulling _(a short, sharp tug until he tumbles)_ at his chest as he leans out over the edge.

*

See, Liam doesn’t drink.

So, he tries out societies and doesn’t join them. Because – they’re weekly socials at clubs and pubs, each night ending in vomit and paralytic strangers draped across Liam’s conscience.

And – being sober. It’s just. Not fun. He doesn’t get the jokes - and the floor is _sticky_ and the air is too _hot_ and no one is _talking_ to him.

University is Liam dancing - and pretending he’s having fun as he swallows around the lump in his throat, eyes prickling as he fights against tears.

*

Liam can be fun, right?

He thought he was fun.

*

“Mate, I need a cup of tea. I never want to see another drop of vodka in my life, _fuck_. The smell of floor cleaner is making me want to heave. Night in tonight, lads! Liam, watch a movie with us?”

Louis, though.

Louis is a ray of hope and Liam wants to breathe his relief out until it shines bright like the sun. 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I should mention that my Ziam fic is still underway. It's like, being _difficult_ :P


End file.
